Him.Him…
A single bead of perspiration trickled down the side of my forehead, my body quivering.
Don’t answer it. Don’t do it. Call the police.
That’s what I should do. The rational side of me knew better than to feed the asshole’s fantasies, but there was something about his voice that I found irresistible. I also wanted to find out why the man had targeted me.
So, instead of doing the right thing, I answered, only this phone call would be on my terms.
“What the hell do you want, asshole? Know that this phone call is being recorded.”
There was nothing but silence on the other end of the line for at least a minute. I was ready to hang up until I heard his deep exhale.
“Do you enjoy playing games, Sierra?”
“Not with sons of bitches who refuse to tell me who they are and what they want.” I sensed I’d angered him. Too fucking bad. “I’m hanging up now and if you ever consider calling me again, I will hunt you down.”
“I don’t think you really want to do that, Sierra. Do you? I sensed how much you enjoyed our previous conversation. I did as well. Are you ready to release your inhibitions?”
“Are you out of your mind? I don’t know who you are, but this is sick.”
When he laughed, butterflies formed in my stomach, their wings managing to touch the most intimate parts of my body. “Did you enjoy our previous conversation?”
How the hell could I, asshole?“I don’t know you. That doesn’t bode well for enjoyment on any level.”
“But I know you.”
The pause on the other end of the line sent a trickle of fear coursing through my blood. Had I met this man before? Was he a friend of Tristen’s? “Then tell me who I am.” Perhaps daring the stranger wasn’t a good idea, but I was tenacious, refusing to back down from anything.
“I know you’re hurting inside, the grief threatening to consume what hasn’t already been taken. I know you long to break free of the prison you’ve placed yourself in, finding joy and passion when all you’ve felt is sorrow. I also know your thoughts, dreams that you’ve had for years, but more important, I’ve sensed the longing furrowed deep inside, clawing at your skin, famished for a heated touch, a languishing kiss. Tell me I’m wrong, Sierra.”
Everything this… asshole described was true. I sucked in my breath, trying to make sense of why he was calling me. To torment me? He was twisted. How had he found me? How in God’s name had he gotten my phone number?
“Just… leave me alone. You know nothing about me.” I sensed his irritation I hadn’t accepted his forward advance and relished the fact that some unknown prick was paying attention to me. Well, fuck him.
“Tell me, my sweet kitten. Is your pussy wet from the sound of my voice? Are your nipples hard, aching to be touched?”
That’s it. I’d had it.
“You are a sick, twisted fuck.” But he was right. I shifted my legs, my pussy throbbing as it had five days ago after his second call. He’d asked me questions on the second one, nothing too personal, yet I’d felt almost as if he’d reached through the phone, able to brush his fingers down my neck, rolling them between my breasts, teasing me gently.
Seducing me.
And he’d called me hisdulce gatitaafter tucking me into bed.
It was crazy. I had to be insane to think of this as anything other than what was really happening. He was stalking me, but I could swear he didn’t have the intention of hurting me. Maybe I was a fool and nothing else.
“Yes, I am,” he growled. “I make no apologies for it. Answer me a single additional question and I’ll leave you for the night. Do you crave the darkness, a hunger that exists deep inside of you, spilling from your nightly fantasies into your dull, thankless life? Do you hunger for a taste of the uncontrollable, a feeling of ultimate freedom?”
I opened my mouth to retort, to tell him to go straight to hell, but his questions struck a chord deep inside, yanking at the unraveling mesh surrounding me. He’d sensed I’d been desperately trying to contain needs that could never be fulfilled. Exhaling, I closed my eyes, sliding my hand underneath the bodice of my nightgown, rolling my finger around my nipple. “Yes.” The word escaped, whispered to a man I didn’t know for a reason I couldn’t understand.
But the moment of utter freedom was exquisite.
Then I ended the call.
I would never talk to him again.
Or so I prayed…